Dwarves are Ticklish
by Tag-Your-It
Summary: TagDare. Legolas must shave off Gimli's beard...


**Dwarves are ticklish**

**(Except when they're drunk)**

Legolas was awoken by a loud crash.

Well, actually, he was already awake, but the crash made him get out of bed and see what was going on.

He peeked out of his door, to see Pippin running down the hall with Gimli chasing after him.

"How many times must I tell you, _DON'T TOUCH THE__** BEARD**_!"

Legolas shook his head. '_Will he ever learn_?' he asked himself.

He could answer himself too. '_No._'

He sighed and started pulling on his clothes. As he reached for his fighting knives, he noticed a note stuck to the hilt.

_Welcome, _

_You have just been dared by storyranger! You have three days to complete this dare. If you do not complete it within the specified time, or simply do not do it, you will find yourself hanging in a tree upside-down wearing nothing but a loincloth for an entire night in a very buggy forest. . Now: You must shave Gimli's beard. Completely. 'Accidentally' slicing of the braid does not count. And you must make it seem like someone else did it. Good luck._

Shave off Gimli's beard? Yeah right! Like that was even possible. But if this person was really serious, and if they were really a ranger… he shuddered at the thought.  
So he had to shave of Gimli's beard? Well, it wouldn't be easy, but maybe…

_Knock, knock, knock!_

"Come in!"

A servant stepped through the door.

"A letter from his Highness, my lord."

"Thank you."

He tore it open.

_Legolas,_

_Can't come on the hunting trip today. Urgent diplomatic situation with dwarfish delegation. You're invited to the after party tonight though._

_Hope to see you there,_

_Aragorn_

_PS: If Gimli challenges you to another drinking game, you have my royal permission to refuse…although it could be fun…_

Party? Drinking game? An idea was forming in Legolas's head… a very good idea…

* * *

"You need what?" Faramir's face was incredulous.

"Sleeping potion."

"Okay…" Faramir turned and began looking through the various cabinets behind him. He stopped and looked back. "What strength do you want?"

"Uhhhhhhh… the strongest you've got." Faramir selected a flask of brownish liquid and moved over to a table crowded with equipment. He picked up a small vial and filled it up halfway. He stopped it and handed it to Legolas.

"You want to be carefull with that. A half of that will put you out for a good twelve hours. What did you say you needed that for?"

"I didn't say. Thanks for this." With that he turned and left the infirmary.

"Fine, be like that!" Faramir called after him. "But you better not be planning to do something stupid, like drug Gimli and shave his eyebrows off in his sleep!"

* * *

'_Knives, soap, sleeping potion…_' Legolas mentally listed everything he needed as he changed into his semiformal robes. '_I just need a scapegoat._'

_Knock, knock, knock._

He opened his door.

Pippin stood outside.

Perfect.

* * *

"Drink, drink, drink, drink!" the crowd of assorted dwarves cheered on Gimli as he consumed his 47th glass. Legolas sensed he was reaching his limit and slipped his hand into his pocket. Quickly, so neither Gimli nor the others would notice, he emptied the entire contents into Gimli's next tankard. Nobody noticed a thing.

Gimli grabbed his tankard. Legolas grasped his. They drank.

And drank.

And drank.

Just when Legolas was beginning to wonder if he'd been played, a dreamy expression crossed his face and he keeled over, out cold. The dwarves half-heartedly applauded the 'winner', and then went of in search of other entertainment. Legolas beckoned to two pages standing nearby, and together they hauled Gimli up to his room. Legolas thanked the now-exhausted pair and dismissed them.

Now that he had Gimli alone and knocked out for (hopefully!) the next twelve hours, he was faced with the task of actually shaving him.

He decided the wisest course of action would be to chop of the beard as close as he could with a knife first and then going back over it with a razor. He unsheathed his knife, grabbed Gimli's braid, and chopped.

He almost died of laughing before he finished the job

But finish he did, and at 4:30am he brushed the remaining hair into a pile and carefully removed all personal traces from the room. Then he quietly snuck back to his room. He changed into his nightclothes, but that was just for show. He didn't plan on sleeping.

* * *

"Gimli, wake up!" Peregrin banged on the door but to no avail. Legolas had told him to go get Gimli so he wouldn't miss breakfast. Now **he** was late!

Fed up of waiting, he tried the knob. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open.

And burst out laughing.

Pippin's laughter managed to pierce through the sleepy, half-awake haze that filled Gimli's brain. He opened his eyes and saw Pippin doubled over, shaking with laughter. The then registered the large pile of red hair lying next to him. His hand moved absently to his face.

It was smooth.

He jumped up and ran to his bathroom. He stared in the mirror.

His shout could be heard throughout Minas Tirith.

"PEREGRIN TOOK!"

As he sat at the table in the breakfast room, slowly devouring an apple, Legolas inwardly smiled.

'_Whoever this storyranger is_,' he thought, '_they sure have a wicked sense of humor_.'

_Fin_


End file.
